


Want to be swallowed by the water

by JaybirdTheAuthor



Category: Wilbur Soot - Fandom
Genre: 2nd Person, Gen, I’m hurt and shit, Second Person, Wilbur POV, Wilbur Soot - Freeform, author projects onto Wilbur, i vent with you deal with it, sorta - Freeform, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26460340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaybirdTheAuthor/pseuds/JaybirdTheAuthor
Summary: Apathetic, apologetic,Bruised, beaten,Careless, cursed,Demanding, depressed,Emotional, endless,Frozen, fearful,Greedy, grandeur,Hideous, harmful,Insistent, indifferent,Jealous, jaded,You’re mixed up and confused,And everything changes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Want to be swallowed by the water

**Author's Note:**

> I feel the need to explain that I was extremely depressed for a few hours today and spoke with someone while writing this and because I was so emotional it’s bad but I’m sort of happy with it because I let my emotions out my way and I thought you should see too!

Another morning, you stand in front of the mirror with your hair brushed to the side wondering if today is the day when you reach out to someone, call someone on your phone and ask if you’re allowed to feel okay yet, if you’re allowed to stop feeling so trapped, if anyone will listen to you.

Before you reach out for help, your hand grasping at your phone to finally let someone know you’re not okay with this, any of these things that have been happening to you, any of the reasons you feel London is cruel putting barriers between you and not feeling this pain any of you, your brain stops you with a tsk you couldn’t possibly imagine not hearing in your head, couldn’t imagine not feeling hurt by as your chest aches with anger that you can’t reach out and despair with the hope someone asks something about your health so you can feel okay.

Counting to ten, the thing your therapist told you to do when you felt like this with a chuckle at the fact your emotional intelligence is so bad compared to herself, laughing your pain away with your age having to mean you can’t act ‘like a teenager’ and ‘need to gather yourself and be a man’. Counting to ten, the suggestion from the one person you reached out to begging for some relief from everything hurting you instead of escaping, ready to feel instead of holding yourself to saying no to feeling shit, instead of hiding it all away, it doesn’t help.

Discord lights up for a moment, you look at the message from your friend. Tommy, Tommy’s a child you can’t bother him. He goes through too much and it’s manipulative of you to rely on younger people like him, he’s sixteen, he’s bound to have issues much bigger than yours, doesn’t matter if he’s younger by a day or a decade but your relationship doesn’t leave telling him within realm of possibility, he’s like your younger brother and you’re useless to tell him anything as the ground splits under you, sending a quick ‘Later today then’ to his request to do something with him for a video, you almost forgot by technicality you two are coworkers, at least somewhat.

Everything feels like it’s crumbling down and you’re not quite sure where ends the people you work with, what love is, what the fuck is going on in your life. You’re one of the oldest of your friends, you’re the brightest in many ways, you’re the most mature in many ways, you joke around lots, you can even joke about this feeling when it’s over by all logic you should be okay but you’re not.

Friends, you love your friends, how do you love them? Do you have to love them differently? Does it matter how you love them? Do you—you love some more don’t you? Or do you? Are they equal? What if your favouritism based on? Are you romantic with your friends? Is it all a big joke? Do they love you? Did you really ask a girl out last weekend or was it a friendly idea to go to the terrarium together with someone? Do you even like her? Is she more like someone like dream to you, someone you flirt with as a joke? Or is she like your ex girlfriends? Do you want to date her or are you taking her to see a cool snake? What’s your name even? Is it too late to wonder if you chose the right career?

Greatest people in history were so unlike you, you realise, staring into your eyes in the mirror before realising even your eyes make you uncomfortable—what were the greatest people in history? Could you ever be one? Will anyone remember you when you die eventually? Did the greatest people lie by omission saying they have something to do or many of the other things you tend to say, did they say those things when their friends sent them carrier pigeons? Or were they braver than you? Is the average person braver.

Heat fills your body as you feel the lack of any kind of fan, your fan is too loud, your heating is on only because it’s cold at nights and you’re still standing in your room late into the day because you couldn’t find your way to work, your feet couldn’t take you to the right place, you felt trapped. Sure your job isn’t like a medical thing you really can’t slide out of but you feel stupid not going to do it, you should be working but you’re too depressed to go.

Inching towards your guitar, your love, the thing you know about yourself is how you love to sing and play and you’re a bard for DND because you love music so much, your charisma is high but is it in real life? You don’t know what you feel in real life at this point but you know your strength is low and maybe your intelligence too—even through you pride yourself on it.

Jubilee line, you’re singing a song you know how to play for so many fucking reasons but can’t hear yourself, your voice is giving out, you feel weak and small when you’re the tallest in your friend group, you could fight, you know how to. You prefer not to but you know how to but you feel so weak like your arms are nothing but sticks on a snowman. You feel used up and confused by everything that’s happening to you but you keep playing, singing about the tube line.

“Keep on singing,” you speak to yourself, like an overzealous choir leader asking you to use your voice until you’ve used it up, until every bit of spirit is gone, until singing is a chore not something happy you love doing, you don’t want to lose singing too. You sing and write and play—but somehow the joy of playing is drowning underneath water you can’t reach, you want to pull it out, rescue it, but your head is underwater too and you need to rip that out maybe at its expense.

Later, after you’ve sung your voice out and shouted at wall after wall after wall, you look at your phone to find a few messages from friends of yours, seemingly in a new group chat you weren’t aware was going to be created devoted to talking about one of their friends for his birthday—oh how you wish you could leave the group unnoticed, you’re not on the best of terms with the guy right now.

More than half of you wants to reach out to someone again and you grab your phone, typing out a message that has too many letters to fit on discord, saying he has 29 too many, which is okay because you just send nothing, deleting the message before realising some of your friends were waiting for you to text and simply commenting that you would be at the Minecraft birthday with corona having fucked everything up, explaining you don’t sleep that well anyway so you can definitely come just like the others, a believable thing for sure for at least most of them.

Notifications show on your screen and you click on one, looking at it with intrigue as your friend types to you asking what’s making you upset, you question what he means when he says he doesn’t play games and he can see you’re upset, a surprise to you that someone cares this much when every time you ask for help it seems to fall on deaf ears, maybe you need to start screaming louder, being ruder, you don’t know.

Over the next minute, you hover on top of the call button with your brain arguing with itself until you just press the fucking bottom with almost annoyance at yourself, now feeling scared pissed on and lonely to the point calling the goat man himself doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, you don’t know shit but you decide to call him even though his comfort isn’t always the most validating one. Often he’s like a sports teacher, screaming at you to run while sitting on his ass. Motivational?

Pretty much as soon as you can hear the pickup sound and him asking what’s wrong in a tone too soft for him, you break down and start speaking like words are the only thing you can even use—not the best words, you describe the feeling as a deep green and say you want to feel all orange and giddy but all you can feel is green of the aggressive sort. You can’t find other words, colours will do, he seems to understand well enough.

Quite a long moment, minutes, almost feels like hours, is spent with you screaming out about your need for help and his giving you words slowly, carefully, explaining all the things you can’t to yourself. Your emotions go high to the point of screaming at him, he understands, laughing slightly and telling you to be quiet or you’ll wake up you two’s kids, but otherwise you get much calmer.

Rather than stopping the call when you feel calm enough to want to play guitar again, he asks you play for him, you singing along to funny little tunes with songs you like mixed in as he works out things on call with you, answers for both of you since you feel too weak to. You feel like a burden but he reassures this is what friends are for and calls you his free radio, throwing in a few suggestions he’s sure you know and even when you don’t, you look up the cords and do your very best with them as a thank you.

Silently, you decide to play another song, romance is boring. It’s not for any reason, you know you aren’t into your friend, you could go watch the stars and eat spaghetti as a ‘date’ but it’d be a joke like you did with another friend ages ago, a joke date, a friendly date. It could be fun to have a friend date with your friend, much like the girl you’re meeting at the terrarium is a friendly date, you realise. You aren’t really into someone, no matter how much your identity is based around romance nowadays, you are here just to vibe and flirt around and your friend has helped realise that. Romance is boring, perhaps you need to get to know yourself again before you devote yourself to someone else again. 

“Thank you, Schlatt,” you speak softly as you look at the time and see you’re supposed to go talk to Tommy soon for the video, well, you plan on streaming it and he might as well but nonetheless it will be a video for both of you.

Upon calling your ‘coworker friend’ as you have decided to get around understanding your relationships, you can immediately hear his wild mannerisms even in his speech. It feels good, you were sort of numb after Schlatt. Not in a bad way, never in a bad way, but having Tommy call you ‘big man Will’ and start talking about his day just brings it all together. He’s not someone to lean on for emotional support but he brightens his day, he needs to say that more to all his friends, they brighten his day.

Voice finally coming out your throat properly, you speak to your friend with a soft smile, having already messaged a few of your servers the same message as you will speak to the erratic yet absolutely hilarious boy, feeling like maybe you don’t deep talk often enough, “Tommy, I love you. You’re like my little brother and you brighten my day just by existing and I’m glad I get to talk to you and learn things about you, you’re a good friend and I know I don’t say it enough but I well and truly care about you.”

“Will—,” he starts, surprised with his erratic ways slightly calmed before he almost chuckles, pressing on his mouse loudly, “Same to you now invite me or I will tell your mother you’re talking to a 16 year old online.”

Xanthophyll, that’s the colours you see as you laugh, slowly turning red until it’s the orange you have been wanting to see, pressing on the game to invite Tommyinnit as you start up your stream, asking him if he will stream too.

You feel happy, speaking with your friend and playing games, the laughter starting to feel good as Tommy keeps joking around as you secretively invite Schlatt, the big man joining as well as getting on the call after you ask Tommy to go to the server, he seems happy with this arrangement, you’re happy your friends are happy, easy deal.

Zeitgeist, you think, you finally realise your confusing relationship. They’re sort of Zeitgeist, they move around based on time. You love them but you love them more sometimes, you care for them but care from them more sometimes. You can’t put into order, alphabetical or any other order, the things he feels about each of his friends with detail. But he loves them. It’s Zeitgeist and that’s okay.


End file.
